


Most Ardently

by insertnerdyjokehere



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: But Make It Silly, Drunken Confessions, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, Miscommunication, No beta we fall like Crowley, they're both drunk and idiots but love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28732881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insertnerdyjokehere/pseuds/insertnerdyjokehere
Summary: Sometimes drunken declarations take a bit to understand.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	Most Ardently

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my WIPs folder for TOO LONG so yesterday I decided to work on it and post whatever I got done in the morning. I think it was based off of a text post I saw AWHILE back but it could have also just been because I was watching Pride and Prejudice... who knows. Not me.

“You are the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry!” Aziraphale’s words echoed through the bookshop as clear as a bell that had been wrapped up in a blanket, which is to say, not clear at all. 

In the back room of the bookshop Aziraphale and Crowley had been drinking for the better part of the evening, working their way through some excellent vintages as well as some rather terrible bottles that they were too drunk to miracle into being better. 

Crowley, for his part, had not been paying much attention to the conversation. He had been too distracted by how soft the juncture of Aziraphale’s neck looked and how nice it would be to fall into it and have a nice little nap. This sudden declaration however, startled Crowley straight out of his sprawl on the couch. Since when were they talking about marriage? It was difficult to tell with all the alcohol flooding through his brain but Crowley was fairly sure they hadn’t been talking about anything to do with matrimony. It had been something about… one of the sins and… perjury? Pride might have been involved but Crowley couldn’t figure what that had to do with marriage. His thoughts took three times as long to form some rough semblance of order. Aziraphale didn’t want to get married? It wasn’t necessary for them by any means but that didn’t stop Crowley from feeling a little put out. Weddings were a great place for mischief and he had been planning their own ceremony secretly in his head for quite at least a decade. Crowley always figured Aziraphale would love a wedding, the decorations, the outfits, the _cake._

With a certain difficulty only the truly inebriated were granted Crowley focused his gaze onto the angel slumped over next to him. Aziraphale did not seem confused by his statement, in fact, he looked quite proud as if he had finally figured some grand question of the universe. 

Crowley tried to silence the wedding bells that had been echoing in his mind for the better part of a century. He held his wine glass in front of him, clutched in both hands like a nervous pangolin and quietly fretted to himself. So no marriage then. That was fine. Absolutely fine. Tickety-bloody-boo. It was a silly notion when you got right down to it. They were immortal beings who have existed before marriage was even a thing, of _course_ they wouldn’t get married. 

Trying to convince himself, Crowley nodded in agreement. He had fought so hard to get to where he was, fought so hard for this love that had been dangerous to both of them for so long. The apocalypse wasn’t too long ago, a measly two years, so all those fears could still be fresh for Aziraphale. The angel liked to go slow. Maybe they could revisit their nuptials in a century or two. “That’sss- that’s fair, no wedding.” Crowley finally concluded. He took a confused sip from the wine. Could they still do rings or- 

Aziraphale’s ease vanished in a moment. "No!" He nearly toppled over into Crowley’s lap in his haste to correct the demon. Crowley blinked at him, bewildered. "No no no! You're not a MAN are you?” He looked drunkenly at Crowley, a smile plastered over his face, as if that would clear anything, let alone everything, up. 

“No,” he started cautiously, “Not technica-”

“You!” Aziraphale blustered on, ignoring Crowley’s words. “You're a- well you…” Aziraphale lost himself into a helpless fit of giggles. “You're a Crowley!" 

“Angel, what do you-”

"You are the only _Crowley_ in the world I could be prevailed to marry." He wiggled as if settling himself back into his pride at figuring everything out. 

Things were clearing up but Crowley was still confused. The easy thing to do would be to sober up but that was not a thought that occurred to Crowley. “Are you… _proposing_ to me?”

“Of course not,” Aziraphale scoffed like Crowley was the one who wasn’t making sense. Crowley’s hope fell. “I’m saying that I _will_ marry _you._ ”

A sober mind would have figured this is what Aziraphale meant from the start but a drunken heart would consider this roller coaster. So matrimony was still on the table. The tension eased out of Crowley and a warmth settled in his chest: Aziraphale wanted to marry him. By the sounds of it Aziraphale _demanded_ to marry him. “Do I have any say in the matter?” Crowley asked, amused now that his worry was gone.

“‘Course you do, you’re the one who has to propose.”

“ _I’m_ the one who has to propose?” 

“Certainly.” He did not elaborate. 

Crowley gave that a thought for a moment. “So… could I propose to you right now?” He leaned forward, crowding Aziraphale into the couch. His attempt at “seductive smirk guaranteed to woo” missed by a mile and instead landed on “sappy, lovesick fool who was so in love it was embarrassing.” He pressed his face to Aziraphale’s cheek, smiling too big to manage a proper kiss.

His grand seduction was interrupted by Aziraphale’s affronted gasp. “Heavens no! You’ll have to do it proper.”  
  
Drunk on love as well as other fermented beverages, Crowley only continued to smile and nuzzle against his angel. “Otherwise you’ll say no?” 

That made Aziraphale pause as though the thought had never occurred to him. (It hadn’t.)

Aziraphale continued thinking while Crowley snickered with amusement, now that the tables had been turned in his favor. While they were both pleasantly drunk, Aziraphale seemed to be the sort of drunk who didn’t realize he was being teased, didn’t even seem to realize Crowley had slithered onto his lap. 

Now properly situated with one knee on either side of Aziraphale, Crowley leaned back and held onto the angel’s shoulders for balance. Even in his confused stupor Aziraphale reflexively wrapped his arm around Crowley’s waist making sure he didn’t go too far. He looked up at Crowley, hopeful, and drunkly supplied “I love you most ardently?” 

“Is that a question? Of course you do.” Crowley confirmed easily. He had never doubted that Aziraphale _loved_ him. Nothing could make Crowley doubt that, not all the wine in London. “But Let’s say I botch this whole proposal thing,” he mused. “Is that it then? How many tries do I get?”

Aziraphale seemed to malfunction like a computer who had been told “This statement is false.” He frowned and tried to connect the thoughts in his head to reason but it was just too much of a stretch. Crowley waited patiently, becoming more smitten by the minute. Even with the extra few moments, the most articulate thing Aziraphale could come up with was “Ngk.”

“Angel?” Crowley tried to smooth out the furrow on his brow and only then did Aziraphale seem to realize how close they were. 

“Hm? Oh! Oh…” Aziraphale was still flushed from the drink but Crowley could see them become a touch more red as Aziraphale seemed to realize what exactly he had said over the last few minutes. He faltered for another moment but then snapped himself out of it. “Well,” he said matter of factly, “I’ve decided that you won’t get it wrong. I know you and I believe you to be incapable of it.”

His tone left no room for argument but Crowley pushed, just to tease him further. “What if I proposed but didn’t have a ring?” he leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. 

Aziraphale’s arms tightened around Crowley. “That’s fine, my dear.” He turned his head, angling for a kiss, but Crowley pulled away at the last second.

“What if... I proposed while singing some cheesy pop song that you hate? Or came up with an elaborate set of riddles and-”

“Yes, yes. You’ve made your point.” 

“What if I proposed _now_ _?_ Have you changed your mind about that?”

“Oh no!” Aziraphale shook his head and frowned but his eyes shone with adoration. “I simply will _not_ allow it. You can try but I will thwart you, you wiley serpent.”

“Aziraphale, will you m-”

Crowley was silenced as Aziraphale surged up to kiss him. Not just a quick peck but a kiss that lasted several moments and left them both breathless. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said still panting “Will you-”

Aziraphale kissed him again, more insistent this time and as a pair of angel hands began to work their way up the back of his shirt Crowley was sure Aziraphale would be true to his word. 


End file.
